That Summer We Fought For Freedom
by eloquentgraffitti
Summary: During the 1960's Civil Rights Movement, a group of doctors and nurses come together to help out at a Medical Camp for those injured from the race riots. (Inspired by JW's commitment to fighting for equality :P, also, partially inspired by his character in The Butler)
1. Chapter 1

**So...this story is pure research for me. Which has its challenges, but I'm also learning a great deal. I think it's better to say right off the bat that I am not American, and therefore am learning the rich and violent history of this country as I go along on this story's journey myself. So if there are any mistakes or discrepancies - historical or otherwise - as this is a sensitive subject to address and I have no intention of offending or hurting anyone - please please let me know. It would be much appreciated. I will be taking some creative liberties of course, but mild ones - some timelines may not match up exactly with historical data and I might make up fictional towns or states etc, and also - interesting fact, in my research I found out that when recruiting people for the movement, those who had even the slightest intention of becoming romantically involved with someone else, were not recruited. I'm overlooking that little factor of course, or there would be no story haha.**

* * *

Her hands were gentle, small, and soft. Privileged. They tended to the rough burns on his chest, pale skin contrasting brilliantly against his olive. Privilege. He knew it when he saw it. Acknowledged it both with resentment and with begrudging understanding. Privilege wasn't rare amongst the white community. What was rare was the guilt that went along with it. Very few felt it, even fewer showed it. So accustomed were they to the idea that they were better, that they deserved better, that they should have more rights, that they wouldn't recognize the idea of privilege if he were to hammer it into their brains. They took it for granted, like sunshine on a summer's day. So guilt for having that privilege? Forget about it. Feeling guilt would mean that they were aware of the blatant inequality, racism and injustice taking place within an entire nation, and is ready to acknowledge it. Showing guilt would mean that they've taken it a step further, that that guilt was weighing down on them, on their conscience, nagging them to do something about it. And he could see that she felt it, and try as she might, wasn't succesful in hiding it. It was in the way she avoided eye contact with him, the way her voice slightly wavered as she asked him whether she was applying too much pressure, the way she tried to make her audible gasp as inaudible as possible when she saw the gash in his thigh that went a little too deep.

He wasn't about to deny that he was curious. She was a woman. A woman _doctor_, which, in and of itself, was incredibly impressive for the times. And she was volunteering at a camp set up especially for those injured in the race riots, meaning she was in support of the movement, meaning she was already doing something to help.

Even more impressive.

He couldn't deny that he was curious. But now was not the time to pursue anything, he knew that, and he was well aware of his priorities. Curious though, he was just curious.

And then there was Stephanie Edwards. His current girlfriend - if you could call it that. They had been on and off way too often for him to really define what they were to each other, and currently, he had no idea whether they were on _or_ off. Curvy, funny, with a big laugh and absolute fury towards racial injustice and inequality built up within her, fighting to be let out. At times her notions and strategies were feasible and practical. Other times they were downright radical, causing him to wonder whether she was driven by pure hate towards the whites, who had been responsible for the murder of her father when she was eight years old, and the enslavement of generations of her family before she was born.

The movement involved both whites and blacks, and they all knew that the white community's involvement was imperative if they were to succeed in what they were fighting for. And he knew that she knew that, but every so often, he could sense hints of resentment within her towards the whites. He figured it was somewhat natural, and was only relieved that she interacted with them in a civil manner, even though there had been a few outbursts from her from time to time, trying to induce arguments, which, thank god, had quickly been snuffed out by several others - including him. There was no denying she was feisty, and when they first met at the hospital he had been impressed with her. She was a nurse with dreams of attending medical school one day and she had been plucky, willing to bulldoze through anyone who would dare to stand in her way of getting a medical education and participating in the movement. She was a couple years younger to him, and still gaining experience as a nurse, but once she had heard about the hospital setting up a camp in Mississippi during the Summer as part of the medical arm of the movement, she had lobbied for younger nurses to be given the chance to volunteer their services. And had succeeded.

He looked around and saw her, observing closely while a senior doctor treated a patient who looked to be in mild pain. He had already talked to his mother about maybe consulting with the president of a Black University their family had close contacts with to consider taking on more female candidates to train to become doctors. He already knew there was incredible discrepancy between the sexes when it came to being accepted into professions such as Law and Medicine right now, and for black women especially, it was even harder.

Stephanie Edwards had pluck and smarts, just not a fair chance.

Neither, of course, did many of the people he worked closely with, and was observing with his razor sharp green gaze right now. That was the whole point. That was the fight.

His own life, however, had had more of a unique trajectory to it. The sole heir of the Avery Infirmary and Teaching Hospital, he had been born to a white father and a black mother. At a time when societal hostility towards interracial relationships were at its peak, Jackson's father had taken advantage of Massachusetts' repeal of anti-miscegenation laws and married his mother - against the wishes of his family. This had resulted in angering his family beyond comprehension, inciting them to level various accusations at him; from "contaminating the family legacy" to "dirtying the blood line" to "bringing shame to the prestigious family name."

They had called his mother names so foul they were unrepeatable, and when none of it was successful in dissuading Jackson's father, they had threatened to disown him and strip him of his inheritance of the family's medical foundation - which also happened to control one of the largest hospitals in the country.

Being a successful doctor in his own right and confident in his ability to fend for himself and his wife, Jackson's father, in return, had willingly let his family carry out the threat, walking out on them to establish the Avery Infirmary and Teaching Hospital - first starting from a small clinic and then slowly expanding into a thriving establishment, becoming one of the few hospitals to treat patients regardless of their skin colour.

Although his parents' love story had been fraught with adversity and opposition from all sides, Jackson had seen nothing but love and a strong bond between the two of them. Jackson's father, being a firm believer in the equality of the sexes and knowing his own wife's dreams of becoming doctor, had gone out of his way to accept as many women physicians as possible at the hospital - even though they were still, sadly, few and far between. And yet his mother, previously a nurse herself much like Stephanie, with a sharp wit and a brilliant mind, had gone onto study under his father, finally obtaining her degree in medicine when Jackson was sixteen.

Jackson's acceptance into medical school had been one of his father's proudest moments, and he had groomed Jackson to one day take over the hospital.

Yes, Jackson was well aware of the privileges he had been afforded in life, privileges that other people of mixed ancestry much like himself did not have, simply because they were part black. He knew that in the white community's eyes, he was considered black, and there were specific moments in his life that he would never forget, such as walking into a restaurant with his mother and being refused to be served because of their skin colour. He wasn't immune to discrimination, but he had never suffered from poverty, never worried about securing a future, never had to.

And it was this very awareness of inequality that made his need to fight for equality all the more stronger.

Realizing that he had fallen into a thoughtful reverie, he looked up to find the young red headed doctor currently treating his wounds staring at him. Knowing that he had completely missed what she must have said, he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry - didn't hear you there."

"I said, would you like some ointment to take with you for the -"

"No, that won't be necessary." He interrupted her. He was Jackson Avery after all, and his own hospital provided half the medical supplies for the camp. He already had the ointment.

Thinking that now would be a good moment to introduce himself, he reached out his hand.

"Jackson Avery. Of the Avery Infirmary and Teaching Hospital"

He stated, going into a bit more detail than necessary, hoping he didn't sound too smug. He never bragged. Made it a point to stay humble, even amongst the many privileges he had been offered in life; maybe even _because_ of it. But something about her made him want to appear impressive in her eyes. The centuries old effort a straight male made to attract the attention of an attractive female making a well-timed appearance to manipulate his actions.

He watched as she raised her eyebrows, small hand hesitatingly grasping his and shaking it.

"April." She said simply.

"April…" he waited, repeating her name back to her as if prompting her for the rest of her name.

"April-I have-to-go-now." She said, and a small smile graced her lips.

"Ah, I get it, you don't want to tell me the rest of your name?" He asked, becoming more and more curious, and watching as her cheeks flushed endearingly.

Curious. He was just curious.

"You'll find out soon enough, I presume." she said, almost inaudibly, almost wearily, as she turned around, fixing her gaze on another patient.

"Stay safe Jackson." She threw back over her shoulder as she walked away.

* * *

He looked after her thoughtfully, before making his way towards Richard Webber, the senior doctor Stephanie had been working with was the Chief of Surgery at the hospital, and his mother's now husband. It had taken him awhile to warm up to him after his father's death a few years ago, but he had come to look to him as a father-figure.

"All patched up?" the older man inquired with some concern, looking at Jackson.

"Yep." he said, unable to keep from looking back at April one more time.

"Ah. You've met doctor Kepner I see."

"Kepner." Jackson repeated. So that's her last name, he thought. It sounded oddly familiar, although he couldn't pinpoint the reason right at this moment.

"…Of the Kepner Cotton Industries…" the older man prompted, and Jackson's eyes widened.

"You're kidding me!" he exclaimed, while Richard Webber chuckled.

"Not even a little bit."

"She's Joe Kepner's daughter? No you've got to be wrong."

Richard shook his head. "Vetted her myself, she's the real deal."

"Well, well, well, what does Joe Kepner have to say about his own daughter turning against him?"

"Nothing." said Richard pointedly. "And she wants to keep it that way."

Jackson raised his eyebrows incredulously. "We're practically in her daddy's backyard. The man owns one of the largest cotton plantations in Mississippi. In fact, I'm fairly sure most of the people in this community work for the man."

"And you wouldn't be wrong."

"Then how could you -"

"She's loved in the community. They protect her as one of their own. They know she's an ally, and they trust her. She's an asset to us Jackson."

Jackson nodded thoughtfully. Joe Kepner, in contrast to his daughter, was an arch-segregationist and notorious for the tyrannical control of his cotton empire, along with the brutal treatment of his labourers. Mississippi being one of the few places still dominated by plantation owners, Joe Kepner's cotton empire was booming, even though in most places the trade had declined. He was especially known for paying atrociously low wages for the black men and women labouring in his fields, turning a complete blind eye to their destitute living conditions. And that wasn't all that Joe Kepner was known for. Rumour had it that he was a leading member of the Klu Klux Klan. Jackson could only imagine what he would do if he found out that his own daughter was a part of the movement he so despises.

Looking at the older man, Jackson suddenly had an uneasy thought.

"Are you sure she's not spying on us?" He asked hesitatingly. He would hate to have to find out she was a snitch, but it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility, and they've had some similar incidences previously at a different camp.

"No she's clear, I'm certain of that. She has quite the interesting story actually."

The older man said, leading Jackson away from the makeshift tent and into one of the buildings they had temporarily occupied within the rural community.

"She's a bright young thing. Got into Mercy West Medical School in Pennsylvania as one of only six women against all odds - her daddy being one of them. The talk is that he wanted to marry her off to some rich old fart as part of some business deal, but just before that had happened her aunt had died - leaving behind a big old fortune - all in her name. Now her mother's dead you see, died when she was still a young little thing - so without her daddy knowing of course, she had applied to Mercy West, purchased her own place using the money her aunt left her, and while her daddy was away on some business trip, had taken the bus to Pennsylvania. Smart girl. She told me herself that Joe Kepner came to get her in Pennsylvania once or twice, angry and yelling, but she held her ground. Extremely competent as a doctor too. Though her self esteem could use some work. Girl's had a privileged life, but I reckon it hasn't been easy with that father of hers."

Jackson nodded thoughtfully. Oh yes, April Kepner was already proving to be a bundle of contradictions, and against all common sense, he was definitely interested.

* * *

**Please leave a comment as to whether you guys liked it or not! I want to continue, but this story is more hard work than others, as I actually have to research facts and data in addition to using my imagination ;) so you're response would really get me going :)**

**Resources I used: (update: ugh, no matter what I do the resources appear screwed up. Will fix later. Now sleepy.**

**Second update: I have been informed by a friend that no matter what I do, the resources will appear screwed up - unless I write out the coms and the dots manually. Which is - yeah no- ain't nobody got time for that. If you do want to know the resources though, I'll be happy to oblige, just PM me! (From now on though, i'll be updating the resources on tumblr -where i post the links to my stories when they're posted)**

1\. Freedom Summer - book by Bruce Watson

2\. .

3\. .

4\. .

5\. philly/blogs/public_ ?c=r

6\. /en/content/1960s-70s-american-feminist-movement-breaking-down-barriers-women

7\. topics/black-history/freedom-summer

8\. .

9\. .gov/tsla/exhibits/blackhistory/pdfs/Miscegenation%

10\. .

11\. .

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Shonda Rhimes, but in this particular scenario, the backdrop of the story has been created entirely by me. If anyone wants to see the resources I used for this fic, please PM me!**

0o0

It was going to be a long two weeks. Over the past two days, things had taken an interesting turn. Joe Kepner, of the massive cotton conglomerate, had announced that he would be running for mayor of the town. With that, the group of people who had gathered in town in order to peacefully participate in the civil rights movement had started to get more and more anxious. So far, they had managed to appeal to a fair number of the population in town, mostly students, to be more open to participating in interracial dialogue - discussing desegregation of public schools, the removal of segregationist signs from public facilities, allowing African Americans to enter the police force, etc. The election of Joe Kepner, with his firm segregationist beliefs, would bring all that progress to a grinding halt. Not to mention the environment they were in was now at risk of becoming more and more volatile as Joe Kepner prepared to kick off his campaign for mayor.

So the movement, in affiliation with the Avery Infirmary and Teaching Hospital, had organized several workshops to educate and strategize with participants on staging non violent direct action protests – sit-in's, marches, church visits, etc. in order to step up their peaceful appeal for desegregation. There were other workshops on basic medical-care helmed by the Avery Infirmary as well, so that if the protestors were injured in any way, they would have first hand knowledge of basic medical aid procedures to help care for one another.

The Grey family, a well respected and powerful family of medical professionals who had lived in the town for generations, and who had recently started to support the movement, had covertly arranged living quarters for the various activists as well as the hospital employees on their property. The Grey family owned a massive mansion that was built in the late1800's that sprawled several acres, with expanded underground tunnels which the movement now used for meetings and workshops, out of the way of prying eyes. Dr. Ellis Grey, a legend in her field from the very start of her medical career, from having been the first female in her residency class at medical school to being the first and only woman ever to have won a Harper Avery award – was mother to Dr. Meredith Grey, a close personal friend of Jackson's from their time at medical school together.

There was, however, a rocky personal history between Ellis and Jackson's step-father Dr. Richard Webber, the details of which were a mystery to both Meredith and Jackson. Although Ellis had refused to let the movement use the mansion for their purposes as soon as she had heard that Richard was involved, Meredith had been able to persuade her to change her mind. Dr. Ellis Grey had however, insisted that she stay on in Massachusetts instead of partaking in any of the medical workshops in town – that is, as long as Richard Webber were a part of them.

Jackson had just finished up a workshop on peaceful protesting, answering questions from young students in the community who were just beginning to realize how dangerous what they were about to undertake could be. He had felt pride, as well as bitterness, as he fielded question after question, having to steel himself to the same fear that the young kids were feeling themselves, so as to not show any vulnerability, lest it makes the kids feel vulnerable themselves. In order to appear secure and confident in their methods and strategy, he needed to come across as a hard hitter, having no tolerance for those faint of heart. In fact, he had been upfront in pointing out the harsh realities and consequences of participating in the protests– the worst being death, the least being exile from the community they had come to call home - and had pointed out that those who could not endure these realities did not need to be there.

Not one kid had left their seat.

He had never been more proud and more miserable in his life.

He had made a note in the back of his mind that Dr. Kepner was supposed to be leading a session on emergency medical aid and trauma right now, so Jackson hurried up so as to not miss it. He had to admit he was pretty interested, not only in finding out about her prowess as a medical professional, but also her capacity to empathise and communicate with this specific audience. Growing up white, with all the privileges afforded to her that comes not just with status but also with money, volunteering to conduct a workshop for the movement was either very brave or very stupid of her. If she came off sounding like an entitled, privileged brat with no knowledge or awareness at all of the plight of her audience and their struggles, she would not last one second without being ostracized.

But, as he thought she would, Dr. April Kepner more than held her own. The audience was again, mostly young students, both black and white, which wasn't surprising since that particular demographic was more open to inter-racial dialogue and bringing about change. Not only was she confident and thorough in her lecture and demonstrations, she was attentive to the audience, asked questions of her own in order to educate herself better instead of trying to tell them how to feel, and expertly fielded the audience questions while giving thorough and well researched answers.

If he had to guess, he would say that Dr. Kepner was well on her way to becoming a well liked and respected member of the medical arm of the movement. He lingered behind as many of the attendees walked out after having picked up some pamphlets summarizing the lecture details, and waited until she finished talking with Dr. Hunt, her mentor. He had come to know Dr. Hunt quite well over the course of these few weeks, and liked and respected the man both as a trauma surgeon who once served in the military, and as a valuable asset to the movement. He was looking forward to offering him a position on the staff of Avery Infirmary and Teaching Hospital after the all the chaos had died down, and he just might consider extending the offer to his protégé as well.

After Dr. Hunt left, he ambled up to the table Dr. Kepner was standing at, organizing her files and collecting the leftover pamphlets. She looked up as he neared, her expression changing into one of recognition.

"Dr. Avery. How're your injuries?" she asked pleasantly, giving no indication as to whether she was surprised to see him there.

"About as well as they could be, I suppose."

She nodded.

"Good lecture today, you reached them, sometimes it's hard."

She looked surprised.

"You watched? I didn't see you-"

"I sat at the back, just wanted to observe."

He wasn't about to tell her he had actually been curious as to how she would fare in her workshop.

"I see. Any thoughts?"

"Like I said, you managed to reach them, was humble but showed you were both well informed and experienced. I'd say it was a success."

"Thank you."

She appeared grateful and visibly relieved. He knew that wasn't going to last because what he was about to say next had a high likelihood of ruffling her feathers. But he was going to say it anyway.

"I heard your father was running for mayor now."

Where the atmosphere was relaxed between them before, it now became fraught with tension.

She quickly avoided eye contact with him, busying her hands with her books and pamphlets again, only allowing a terse "yes" in response. It was enough for him to know that she wasn't about to open up to him any time soon about her father, _or_ his campaign and her feelings on that for that matter.

He nodded, deciding not to pursue it any further.

"You should come to one of my workshops by the way. I'm giving one tomorrow. I've attended one of yours, and it's only fair you attend one of mine. Give me some feedback."

He finally managed to get a smile out of her, and her closed off attitude dissipated just a smidge.

"I'll be sure to be there."

Her cheek dimpled when she smiled, he observed, eyes roving her delicate features appreciatively, and saw a faint blush appear on those cheeks before she bent her head again, bidding him a quiet good day.

He gave her a nod in acknowledgement, smiling to himself at her bashful attitude before turning towards the door.

0o0

The workshop went smoothly, April had shown up, and had mostly observed, listening attentively to what he had to say. At times he saw her taking notes, and had been a bit surprised that she had even brought a notebook with her. A troubling thought entered his mind as he watched her converse with a few of the participants, her face animated and lively. He wondered whether she had any plans to participate with them in any of the protests. She was here strictly as part of the medical arm of the movement, and so far, even though some of the doctors had participated in the protests and demonstrations as well, most of them had no prior experience in being in the movement. He wasn't sure if her joining in on the protests would be in the best interests of the movement considering who she was, but he didn't let himself think further about it as he went on with the workshop.

Noticing Stephanie amble into the room with a couple of other nurses, he nodded his head at her in acknowledgement, wondering what she was doing there. He only remembered after that a meeting on women's rights was taking place right after his session and that she was most likely taking part in it. He lingered around after his workshop to answer a few questions and talk to April as she stopped by his desk, interested to hear her feedback. He didn't notice Stephanie watching them both curiously as they had a casual chat, nor did he see her frown slightly as he touched April lightly on the arm before he left the room, not surprised to learn that April was sticking around for the women's rights workshop as well.

0o0

He was walking down one of the halls of the Grey mansion the next day when he heard Stephanie call his name. After stopping for her to catch up to him, he started walking again as she fell into step beside him, saying nothing. They had known each other long enough that at times they were both comfortable with there being nothing but silence between them. He supposed she wanted to vent to him about the women's' rights meeting yesterday. It had become a habit of hers to vent to him about these meetings, as they had been gathering some tension lately. Much like other black women who were a part of the movement, Stephanie was starting to realize the many disparities that existed between black and white women and how this affected their feminist cause, and sometimes used him as a sounding board for her thoughts. So he was more than surprised when she started off the conversation with the words:

"So, you and Joe Kepner's daughter, _that's_ a recipe for disaster."

He slowly came to a stop, turning around to completely face her.

"What?"

"Oh come on, don't pretend you don't know, I saw the two of you yesterday –I can tell you're interested-"

"Alright, Steph, first of all, this is none of your business –"

"It is _every _bit my business when you could be putting _all_ that we've worked for so far at risk by lusting after the daughter of some racist, power-hungry segregationist who is, by the way, next in line for the town mayor!"

She shot back fiercely in a hushed voice, surprising him with her intensity.

"You know, I can't believe this, after everything I've told you about how black women are more marginalized than ever, how our issues aren't heard and we're ignored and vilified for the struggles we go through by white women, you go after some lily whit-"

_"__Stop_. _Now." _

He warned, voice low and at edge.

"You are _seriously_ crossing a line here and I don't owe you anything but I'm going to tell you this anyway. I'm _not_ interested in Dr.–"

"Oh _please_, that's what she told me too when I told her –"

He stared at her, his eyes steel-hard and glowing a dull gray.

"When you told her what?" He asked, voice even but still giving way to the anger underneath. Stephanie pursed her lips, knowing she'd overstepped her boundaries.

"When I told her exactly what I thought of her."

She said then, head held high and showing no indication of any misgivings.

Jackson turned around abruptly, his anger held in check but still coming off him in waves.

"We need to talk later."

He muttered tersely as he started walking back the way he came, knowing that April was just finishing up her lecture right now, and hoping he can catch her before she left.

0o0

He knocked before he entered, and wasn't surprised to see her glance up at him and immediately go back to organizing her desk, not acknowledging his presence.

"Hi." He started tentatively, not entirely sure how to address the subject at hand.

"Listen." He took a deep breath, searching for words, but she made his task easier for him.

"If you're here about Stephanie Edwards, don't worry, we don't have to talk about it. I understand where she's coming from."

He raised an eyebrow. Whatever it was, he hadn't expected that.

"No, that's _why_ we have to talk about it. Because I don't exactly know what-" He stopped short.

"You wanna tell me what she said?"

He asked as casually as possible, hoping to lighten the atmosphere in order to get her to open up to him.

She looked at him for a long time, not saying anything, as if silently waging a battle inside her head.

"She told me to keep my white little privileged hands off her man, because too many white women have been stealing their men lately."

She couldn't look at him when she said it. It was awkward and uncomfortable at the same time.

She was not one to squeal on other people. She was certainly no tell-tale, until now, she thought to herself. She hadn't meant to give Stephanie away. Rather, she had meant to keep the whole conversation private. But something in her, maybe it was petty jealousy; maybe it the need to prove to herself that she wasn't _like that – _made her blurt it out loud.

"She's not wrong."

He said matter-of-factly, slowly walking towards her, expression one of candid honesty, with no hint of scorn or disingenuity.

"I know."

April swallowed, but did not break eye contact.

"You white women seduce and enthral, lure the black men in, brain wash them into thinking that their own black women aren't beautiful, that they don't have the right body, their hips are too wide, their figure too manly. You lure them in, and when they're done satisfying whatever fantasy you have in your little white heads, after you've taken them to bed and showed your white daddy or your cheating white husband that he can't control you or make you do his bidding no more, you throw them away like filthy water. You've never seen them as worthy, as respectable as the great white man, and yet their tiny white dicks can't satisfy you enough in bed so you –"

"_Enough_!"

April was shaking, her fists clenched, and Jackson took a step back, immediately feeling ashamed of himself and more than a little alarmed at his own lack of self-control. He was usually very levelheaded, very rational. But his attraction to her made him conflicted, as if he was betraying his own people by taking a liking to her.

"I'm sorry, I apologize. That was crass of me, and I should have had better choice in words. I got too caught up in it. It's no excuse I know, please don't take it the wrong way."

He was sincere, and April shook her head and took deep breath.

"It's – it's ok." She whispered.

"I -I understand I came off exactly that way, throwing Stephanie under the bus and making myself look good, thereby building your trust in me while perhaps making you suspicious of Stephanie…"

"And yet, you did it." He said softly, again with no malice but with a frown, as if he was trying to understand her.

"I know!" She cried out in frustration, looking down at the floor in shame.

"Look, I understand the politics, I also know how white men fetishize and tokenize black women behind closed doors all the while degrading their bodies and humiliating them in public, I saw enough of that hypocrisy with my own-"

She stopped herself just in time, disgust and loathing for someone or something unknown to Jackson written all over her face. She was trying to hide it, but he was too quick for her, making him all the more curious.

"I'm not saying it's right." She continued, her voice level again, any trace of trembling gone.

"Because _you're_ right, it's -it's messed up and it's wrong and I _don't_ condone it, and there's much more to the feminist movement than just women fighting for equality, because there's differences in the way women are treated when their black vs. white and there's privileges white women have that black women certainly don't have, and _that's_ creating a chasm within the feminist movement."

She stopped to take a breath before continuing on, and Jackson raised an eyebrow, almost giving into a smile. If Stephanie wasn't so stubborn she might actually like April. And who knew the woman could talk so much?

"Look I _know_ how Stephanie and her friends look at me and see me and other white women and I _understand_ why they see me that way! And I understand that _you're_ bitter and why you're defending her and why you're letting me know of my accountability in all this, and I _should_ be held accountable – but – but why?"

"Why what?"

"_Why are you even telling me all this_? You don't have to! You can just walk away, ignore me, not give me the time of day. I'm a white woman, yes, but you're a black man who knows enough not to fall for any of my charms – not that I'm saying I want to charm you or that I am."

She blushed.

"But – but, why won't you just walk away? Won't that prove _more_ than you ever can by- "

"Because, Dr. Kepner, " he interrupted her tersely.

"Even with me knowing all that, I can't help but be attracted to you."

April swallowed, hastily packing up her things while the tiniest blush tinged her cheeks.

"You know we can't." She said quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the table.

"Why? Because I'm black?"

She whipped her head up at that.

"No! NO it's not, don't you _dare_-"

She stopped short when she saw the slight smirk.

"You – you made me walk right into that." She sighed.

He gave a quiet chuckle.

"Relax Dr. Kepner. I'm not saying we should let it lead anywhere. I'm just saying I'm attracted to you."

He started to walk out of the room after giving her a coy glance, and then stopped.

"And I'm not, by the way."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not her man."

"Oh."

The blush tinged her cheeks again.

"Stephanie is…look, she's a great girl, I admire her, her courage and her initiative and that unstoppable tenacity to get things done. She'd be a better surgeon than me if she hadn't encountered barriers to her education because she happens to be black, and she happens to be a woman. So yeah, sometimes her frustration boils over."

April swallowed, feeling an odd mix of envy but also respect. She was envious, yes, of the way he spoke about Stephanie. He obviously cared a great deal for her and there appeared to be history between them, history that she wasn't privy to, making her feel strangely left out. She knew it was ridiculous, they had obviously known each other longer and related to each other in a way she would never be ale to because of their shared experiences in a society that rejected them. But that was exactly what she respected about him. He was genuine about his concern, about how much he cared, and how much he wanted to things to change. And he was passionate. And he respected women. What was there _not_ to respect?

"She has feelings for you."

She said softly, looking directly at him.

He didn't say anything for awhile, just stood there with his gaze locked to hers.

"Look, she's no fool, she knows her worth, and knowing her own potential but knowing that she may never have the opportunity to reach it because she happens to be living in a society that works against her and against her kind isn't easy; when all you want are results but no matter how much you fight, it's just never enough. She hasn't had an easy life. She's not wrong to feel resentful, and her anger in this particular case might be justified if it wasn't so misguided."

His gaze flickered to the floor and then back to hers, and she frowned, cocking her head in curiosity.

"Misguided?" She asked.

"She has feelings about the fact that _I_ a black man, seem to be interested in _you _a white woman. This isn't about me. It's about the larger narrative. There's a difference."

April smiled.

"Yeah, but it's also about you."

She said, sombre look in her eyes. Jackson can shout from the mountaintops what he believed all he wanted, but a woman's intuition could sense things logic and rational thought couldn't.

"You two have a history…?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes."

She nodded, bowing her head.

"I've known her a long time, but we've always butted heads. She has more radical ideas about how to change things, ideas that I haven't always agreed with, and she could never get over her father's death. He was killed by the whites when she was young."

April swallowed.

"We never dated long term, just off and on, and it was never a commitment, it was always casual. She's not the type to be held down by a committed relationship, she's her own free spirit, and I never had the time for one anyway, so it worked out for us."

April nodded.

"Look, don't let this hold you against her-"

"I don't. I respect her. You obviously think very highly of her and I respect that too. She's seems a force to be reckoned with."

She interrupted him. She knew she had no right to be envious of Stephanie given everything that April had that she didn't. Jackson obviously liked women with a fighting spirit. April wasn't a fighter though. She had always sort of quietly rebelled. And even then, only when she felt it was safe.

"But then so are you."

Jackson interrupted her thoughts and she frowned slightly. As much as she liked to be called a force, she knew she wasn't.

"I'm not so much a force as a puff of wind." She murmured, wry smile gracing her lips, and he frowned, clearly not understanding her analogy.

"I never outwardly disobeyed my father." She said quietly.

"It was always behind his back, behind closed doors. You know, it started off with him disapproving of me for something I said or did as a kid and I would hold it in, hold all my anger in and then go to my room and scream. Slam the door. My mother was no help. She never said a thing against him. He heard my screams and my slams but ignored me, knew I had no say in it. And mother would always be frightened for me, trying to shush me every chance she got. And then as I got older, it didn't change. After my mother died it just got worse, the things he did. When I disagreed with the way he would treat our maids I'd always go talk to them, bring them food, make them feel comforted, but never raise my voice at him, never stand up for them, not to his face. And they would always cover for me, if he suspected I had been helping them, I never had the courage to come forward and say I did it."

She swallowed, knowing she had his rapt attention, aware that she so far she hadn't opened up to him and that he was probably surprised into silence at her being so forthcoming with him. But she had already started, so she might as well give him the whole story.

"Even when I ran off to medical school, as I'm sure you've heard by now."

She smiled wryly.

"I waited till he had to go out of town to leave home. I always fantasize about walking up to him, my suitcase in hand, telling him exactly what I think of him and then tipping my hat to him and marching out of the house, leaving him furious. He probably would have sent his bloodhounds after me, he wouldn't have even hesitated, wouldn't have cared I was his own flesh and blood. But I wouldn't care either, not in my fantasy. In my fantasy I'm a force. In reality I'm a puff. It's cowardly, I know –"

"_No_." He stopped her from continuing, his voice hard.

"That's called having a survival instinct. _Not_ cowardice."

She was surprised at how firm he sounded.

"You're no puff…that's exactly what your father would have wanted you to believe. You're a force April Kepner, if anything, what you're doing right now should be enough incentive for you to believe that."

She gave a slight nod in gratitude for his words, even though she still didn't believe in them herself.

"And I saw that blush, so you're not entirely immune to me either." She felt her eyes widen as his quiet words reached her ears, making her face go beet red in response.

Thank God he had turned his back on her to walk out, she thought to herself she kept her head down and pretended to busy herself with her folders.

**-End of Chapter-**

**So I wanted to put in a disclaimer : This is going to take place in a fictional town set in Mississippi, and I'm aiming more for the late 1950's – 1960's. I don't even know if I want to specifically state a time period because I won't be able to make it completely historically accurate – I'll just admit it upfront. I don't know if this will make sense but the story, when it comes to me, doesn't really care about historical accuracy, it doesn't care about anything else but the story, it's just winding around in my head completely wild and free, nagging at me to put it on paper. And I have to sit here trying to sort it into a somewhat historically accurate format before putting it on paper. I don't know if that made sense, but that's the closest I can come to explaining it. **

**So I'm aware that some things I include (such as there being so many women doctors – which wouldn't be possible at the time, especially black women, and the Grey family having a mansion with underground tunnels they've prepared for the activists to conduct workshops in , and the extent to which a "medical arm" is involved in the movement – I had to involve them because that's the grey's universe) are somewhat hard to believe. I am going to try hard to make it seem believable though, I just can't guarantee it.**

**So let's just for now go with fictional town, fictional time.**

**And oh yeah, Ellis Grey is alive and kicking in this universe! **


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